


Red and Green Aren't Just for Christmas Anymore

by Wolves_of_Innistrad



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arrow/Flash verse, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anal Fingering, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Coming Untouched, Costume Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Meetings, Jock Straps, M/M, Overstimulation, Prostate Massage, Superpower Sex, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolves_of_Innistrad/pseuds/Wolves_of_Innistrad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flarrow verse AU for Sterek!  Stiles is Barry, Derek is Oliver, mostly just shameless superhero AU smut tbh.</p><p>Written for the 2015 Bottom!Derek Fic Exchange</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Green Aren't Just for Christmas Anymore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheepnamedpig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheepnamedpig/gifts).



> I really hope you enjoy this fic Sheepnamedpig!!! It was a bit intimidating writing a fic for such an amazing writer, especially under time constraints, but I really do hope you like it! Also hope you don't mind I sort of combined your prompts into one fic, the idea struck me and just kind of ran away with it.
> 
> Not relevant to the enjoyability of the fic, but characters that aren't mentioned here because of time, but have counterparts in my headcanon for this verse are Scott and Melissa as Iris and Joe (without the unrequited love angle), Allison as Eddie, Deucalion as Wells (actually Gerard Argent), The twins as the Snarts (Aiden as Len and Ethan as Lisa), Jackson as Ronnie (yes even though Colton is actually Roy, Isaac fit better for Roy in this au for me), Matt Daehler as Hartley, Kira as Katana(?), Cora as Thea, Laura as laurel (with a different backstory since obvs she isn't with Derek/Oliver), Deaton as Merlyn and I think that's all I had worked out.

          It all starts with a robbery, because of course it does.

          “Erica, should you really be here?” Derek asks skeptically, looking around at the abundance of police in his warehouse. The warehouse that had just been robbed of industrial grade weapons materials.

          Erica saunters forward, once mousey hair now done up in light curls that fall around her face, a trick Laura had shown her. “Someone has to be here to keep you in line Derek,” she tells him, moving to speak with the police officers.

          Rolling his eyes Derek turns, narrowly avoiding running into a gangly teenager that definitely should not be at the crime scene. Before he has a chance to tell him he needs to leave though, the kid is already looking back at him with huge brown eyes.

          “Oh hey, sorry man, just trying to Hey! Detectives!” he shouts out, ignoring Derek completely and heading over to the officers talking with Erica. It’s only then that Derek realizes he has a small black suitcase, or so it appears, trailing behind him, little wheels bumping slightly at the uneven ground.

          He stands for a moment, utterly confused, before piecing it together. The guy must just have an incredibly young face, and no manners. Of course, Derek has faced worse than that, but it’s still annoying to nearly be run over on your own property and be summarily ignored.

          Finishing up the last of the questions the police had, he meets back up with Erica, now accompanied by the tall guy from before. They are about the same height, although where Derek is all broad muscle and definition, the kid is lithe and sinewy, or at least Derek would assume he would be, if that was something he thought about. He certainly wasn’t thinking about the line of moles dotting that long neck and trialing beneath his collar. He had more restraint than that.

          “Derek Hale, meet Stiles Stilinski, he’s doing the crime scene analysis,” Erica tells him, smirking between the two. Derek’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but he’s fairly certain that anytime Erica smirks it means trouble for someone, usually him or a bad guy. She’s the smartest person he knows, and if he were a stronger man he’d admit he’s a bit terrified of her at times.

          Putting out a hand, Derek finds that the long, spindly fingers of Stiles' grip his firmly, much stronger than he anticipated.

          “Nice to meet you Mr. Hale, so, first off let me just say the cops are not going to tell you what they think actually happened, because frankly it doesn’t make any sense. I, on the other hand,” he gestures extravagantly to himself, “will tell you everything I can about what happened. Comes with being the best there is at what I do.”

          “Best there is? What are you, an intern?” Derek retorts with a snort, casting his gaze downwards on the man, having to crane his neck a bit to get the height to do so.

          The other man squawks indignantly, almost flailing about, but seeming to think better of it and holding in his outburst. “I! You! Oooh,” he shakes a finger at him angrily. “See if I tell you my theories on how this door was busted down by someone around your size, but way too strong to be just human.”

          “Just human? So now your theories include aliens Mr. Stilinski?”

          “First off, it’s Stiles Mr. Hale,” he makes a point of enunciating clearly, “and second of all, there are plenty of ways this could happen, what I’m more interested in is which of those it is.”

          Erica just keeps looking between them back and forth, seeming about to break out into a laugh, but attempting to remain demure and unbothered. “So Stiles, please, enlighten us,” she tells him, almost a purr in her voice. If Derek didn’t know better he’d think she was flirting with him. “I’d love to hear all about your theories.”

          She is flirting with him he realizes a second later.

          Stiles smiles widely at her, still giving Derek the stink eye, before launching into a lengthy explanation of torque and strength values and technical details that will likely make Erica even more interested, but mostly causes Derek to zone out.

          When they get back to the club, Derek watches Boyd stroll through the facility, staring up at the weaponry. “Do we really need all of this?” he asks, voice even and calm, as always.

          “Unless I spontaneously develop claws and fangs or something else, I’ll stick with arrows,” Derek retorts, getting a slight chuckle from Boyd. He’s quiet, not so much as Derek can be at times, but Boyd is more reserved. Something about it makes you feel it’s out of intelligence, a sagacity that belies his age. Of course, you’d be right in thinking that, Boyd being Derek’s confidante for quite some time, and the first person he turns to in a crisis, at least one that isn’t technologically based.

          Something was off about Stiles though, so he instructs Erica to find out what she can, to which she agrees eagerly. Derek doesn’t bother worrying, just heads out for the night’s patrol.

          It’s not until later as he wakes up lying on the cold metal table that he realizes having her look stiles up might lead to something like this.

          “Well, hello there sleeping beauty. Thought I might have to try true love’s kiss if this last serum didn’t work,” Stiles laughs from above him, and it takes everything in Derek’s body not to reach up and strangle him right now. Or, more accurately, it would take everything to do so, since he’s having a bit of trouble getting his bearings. “Whoa there big guy, slow your roll. You just took some major chemical cocktail; the effects won’t wear off just yet.”

          "How… How did you get down here?” Derek grunts, lifting a hand to hold his head, room spinning as he attempts to sit up only to be pushed back by Stiles again.

          Stiles gives him a withering look before smiling mischievously. “Well, I used the stairs, like everyone else,” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm.

          “That’s not… Where is Erica,” Derek mumbles, squinting at the bright lights.

          “Right here,” she answers, walking up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Before you get those leather pants in a twist you should be thanking Stiles here. Without him I might not have been able to synthesize an antidote in time.”

          “Antidote?” Derek asked, turning minutely to look in her direction.

          “Yeah, you got drugged up man!” Stiles laughed, then caught himself. “I mean, yeah, someone drugged you. Nearly killed you too. I think it’s something form whoever is juicing up the roid rage monsters, or whatever these guys are.”

          “Thanks,” Derek says flatly.

          “Don’t strain yourself with that apology,” Stiles answers, smirking as he heads over to start packing his stuff.

          “By the way, you might want to think about using something besides grease paint to hide your face. I mean you are totally rocking the raccoon look man, but it’s kind of difficult to get off in case we’d have actually needed to take you to the hospital in a hurry,” he says with a shrug, grabbing his case and walking towards the door.

          Stiles stops, glancing back over his shoulder and giving a tight smile. “Don’t worry; I won’t say anything about your secret identity. You may be kind of a jerk, but sometimes we need people willing to act that way if it means stopping the real bad people. See you Erica, ad Derek? Maybe think about a mask huh?” he says, tossing a wave over his shoulder before exiting.

          “Can we trust him?” Derek asks, still getting his bearings.

          “I think so,” Boyd says, stepping out from the shadows. “I combed through his records, kids just looking to help. Seems like he’s bent on finding the killer who murdered his mother, doesn’t believe it was really his father. Whole life seems to be devoted to catching criminals, so I guess he’s right up your alley.”

          Boyd says it in that same disaffected tone he always uses, but despite his groggy state Derek can catch the small smile he casts towards Erica before heading back upstairs.

          When Derek hears that Stiles has been struck by lightning and went into a coma, he comforts Erica, but it doesn’t affect him much beyond a general feeling of sympathy. It’s not until months later when Stiles speeds back into his life asking for advice that Derek really thinks of him again. Telling him to follow his own path to becoming a hero and helping people, Derek figures Stiles will mess things up royally, but as he watches, Stiles slowly becomes a hero in his own right.

          Time goes by, and again and again they call on each other for advice, for support and help and more. Their teams are on friendly terms, no one more terrified of the dual force that is Erica and Lydia Martin, one of the techs that are helping Stiles out, than Derek and Stiles. Danny, the other tech gets along well with Isaac, who he likes to joke is Derek’s ward, which Derek has a hard time denying since he has pretty much taken the kid under his wing.

          Stiles thinks it’s cute, Derek just ignores him. At least most of the time, but neither can deny that as they’ve grown to know each other, to trust the other with their life and the lives of their friends and families, that more has blossomed than just familiarity or even base friendship.

          The first time they kiss it’s heated, right before a bomb by the Trickster is about to go off, but Stiles saves them. Neither of them speaks of it afterwards.

          The next time it’s when Stiles rescues Derek from Ra’s Al Ghul’s fortress.

          The only time they talk about it, despite its rather alarming trend towards becoming a regular thing, is for Derek to say that people like them, vigilantes and heroes, don’t get to have this.

* * *

 

          “Come on!” Stiles chides, tugging at the hood of Derek’s suit. “We nearly died out there and you are still going to put on the macho, tough guy act?”

          “It’s not an act Stiles, it’s who I am,” Derek answers gravely, spinning to face him. “This,” he points between them, “is not happening.”

          “And why not?”

          “Because I said so!”

          “That is so childish Derek!”

          “The little kid playing at superhero wants to call me childish?”

          “I am a hero! Just like you! Better even, I don’t have to kill to do good!”

          That catches Derek short; he turns away at the accusation, words stinging his very soul. “I don’t do that… Not anymore,” he says softly, voice controlled, but tight.

          “I… Fuck, I didn’t mean that Derek,” Stiles sighs, pulling the hood of his own costume down, revealing his spectacularly messy hair.

          “You did mean it. And it was fair,” Derek intones, a somber edge to his voice. His eyes move back up to meet Stiles’ and the guilt there is evident.

          “Look, I know you are trying to do better, to find another way through this. Heck, I am stumbling my way through, but you know what the difference is?” Stiles asks, taking a step forward.

          “What’s that? Aside from the superpowers I might add.”

          “I have you to look up to Derek. And yeah, you may be brooding and serious, but here, in this city, that’s what you need to be. Back where I am I have colorful villains with weird names and even weirder powers, you have to laugh to stay sane over there, but here? Here you have to be hard, and I get that, I do,” he tells him, laying a hand on Derek’s arm, soft and reassuring. “But you don’t need to be that way with me ok? I get it; I get what it’s like. All that pressure? All the adrenaline, the responsibility, I understand that. I know the risks we take every night, but we go out there anyway, because we’re trying to be the best we can not only for our cities, for our friends and families, but for ourselves. I’m trying to be the best for you, to make you proud Derek.”

          “I… You are doing a good job, kid,” Derek said, finally cracking a bit of a smile.

          “Aww! See, you can be nice when you want to Derek!” Stiles said, slapping him on the arm, or at least trying to. Derek dodged it, spinning them around until Stiles had his back pressed to Derek’s front, his own arm wrapped around his neck. “Force of habit?”

          “No, I just wanted to be able to do this,” Derek whispered, before leaning in and letting his lips ghost over what little of Stiles neck was exposed beneath his suit. The younger man shivered, leaning into the press of lips.

          They’d been dancing around this for what felt like ages, Derek never wanting to give in, Stiles trying and failing to get him to open up. The few kisses they’d shared were fast, few and far between. Mostly they’d been in life or death situations, and Derek hadn’t wanted to own up to them afterwards, his only real time mentioning it saying people like them, vigilantes, didn’t get to have that. That it was a liability.

          “So I guess we’re doing this then?” Stiles asked, coy and a bit teasing, eyes looking back at Derek’s.

          “I’ve held off long enough, and after that little speech? I don’t think even I have the willpower to hold back from what I want.”

          “Good, because I’ve never been one for patience,” Stiles laughed, before speeding them over closer to the table. “So, how are we doing this?”

          "Well, what do you want?” Derek asked, and it was so different he wondered if it might throw Stiles off, the openness of it.

          “Whatever you want big guy,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss Derek softly. “As long as you’re sure you want this, right?”

          “I want this, want you,” Derek all but growled, trying and failing to clutch at the suit, fingers closing around air.

          “Whoops, suit’s built to reduce friction so, yeah, might want to get them off fast, you think?” Stiles asked, fingers moving behind him to find the zipper.

          “No,” Derek said quickly, putting a hand on Stiles’ chest. “Not tonight.”

          "I thought you sai-“ Stiles began, getting a gloved hand placed to his lips to silence him.

          “I said I wanted you, I didn’t say we were doing anything more than kissing tonight.”

          Stiles let out a pained whine, but acquiesced quickly once Derek’s lips were on his again. The suits prevented either from getting hard comfortably, but both had been in worse pain, so a bit of discomfort was worth the pleasure they’d been longing for all this time.

          “So wait, is this like a thing for you? With the costumes and all?” Stiles asked, getting smacked by Derek for his trouble, but a kiss calmed him down.

          Turns out it was a thing for Derek.

* * *

 

          “Come on, turn around,” Stiles prods, pushing at Derek’s shoulder lightly.       

          “We are not doing this here! Anyone could catch us! Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Cora!” Derek exclaimed, but he knew it was to no avail. He may be strong in the face of danger, but he tended to melt under that hot gaze of Stiles. Even more so when he was wearing that fucking suit.

          “Derek, I wore the suit for you, that was what you wanted, I want to do it in the Arrow Cave, that’s my thing,” he told him with a laugh, soothing his hand down the man’s arm. The smooth leather felt good against his fingertips and when Stiles looked up at Derek he buckled, turning and leaning over the table. “That’s my good little Arrow.”

          “My arrow is not little and you know it,” Derek chimed in, head cradled in his arms as he smirked at the red-suited man.

          “Trust me, I know. Do you know how hard it was to run home after letting you fuck me that time? I nearly fell into a body of water,” Stiles laughed.

          “It can’t be any worse than when you couldn’t control your speed that one time. I had friction burn on my cock!” Derek lamented.

          “Hey, speaking of speed, I’ve been practicing something,” Stiles said, and he had that hint of mischief in his voice that Derek knew was just as much trouble as Erica’s smirk.

          “What now?”

          “Not telling, going to have to show you, gotta’ get you opened up first though, alright big guy?”

          “Yeah yeah, just get going,” Derek grumbled. In all honesty he loved bottoming, loved Stiles’ fingers and cock on him, in him. It was a pleasure he’d been scared to let himself have, but now that he accepted it he found it felt just as good as he always thought it would. They flipped sometimes, but Derek preferred this, preferred Stiles taking him apart and putting him back together in the best way. Each time it felt like a little part of him that was once damaged was repaired.

          Speeding to grab lube, he came back to Derek, letting his hands splay over his ass. “God, I love this ass, especially in leather,” he told him, smiling all the while as he slowly inched down the leather pants to reveal his bare ass.

          When he saw Derek was wearing a green jockstrap he moaned audibly, holding in the urge to slap that tight ass. “Only thing I love more is your ass framed by a jockstrap, you cheater,” Stiles play scolded, slapping his ass. The pert cheeks were just so nice framed by the leather and the jock, pants pulled just below his ass cheeks, giving Stiles ample access.

          Stiles took his time, lavishing attention to Derek’s ass, smacks, rubs, kisses, groping him sensually. “Hurry up Stiles!” Derek groaned, needing something, anything done to him. “Just, just do somethi- oooOHH!” he moaned out as one slicked up finger began to ease into him.

          Working slowly, Stiles made sure he coated Derek’s rim well, opening him open easily. He kept reapplying lube, because he wanted to make sure Derek was comfortable, which he figured he was by the tiny sounds the man was making. Never had he seen Derek more vulnerable than during sex, letting his walls down so completely.

          “Think you can take a second for me yet?” he asked, rubbing at Derek’s back beneath his jacket.

          “Yeah, yeah I can,” Derek said, pressing his hot face to the cool metal table. His legs tried to spread to let Stiles in more, but the tight pants hiked around his thighs wouldn’t allow him much movement. Part of him now wondered if that was the plan all along when Stiles agreed to the costumes staying on.

          “Ok, good, nice and easy,” he told him, pressing soothing kisses to each cheek as he worked a second finger into Derek. Once he had him adjusted to it, he sought out the older man’s prostate, rubbing it at a glacial pace. “Like that Arrow?”

          “Yes, Flash,” Derek moaned, a hint of humor in his voice. They didn’t usually use their codenames in bed, but if they were wearing the costumes, why not go all the way he figured.

          That same agonizingly slow speed kept up until Derek felt like he was going to lose his dang mind. “Stiles,” he gritted out, turning, face darkened by the hood which fell partially over his face when he moved.

          “Yes Derek?” Stiles asked, the picture of innocence even with two fingers lodged in Derek’s ass.

          “I thought you wanted to show me something?”

          “Oh I do, and I will?”

          “Then, hurry up!”

          “Oh, that’s just what I was waiting for you to say.” With that Stiles began to move his fingers faster and Derek gasped, feeling his spot being stimulated.

          The fingers inside him began to move faster and faster, rubbing relentlessly at his prostate, making Derek arch his back and cry out. Suddenly though the feeling began to change. “Sti-Stiles, what, what is that?” he asked, feeling his spot starting to go crazy.

          “Oh, just what I wanted to show you Derek. You see, I learned that if I concentrate, I can control the speed of any part of my body. And you know what that makes me?”

          “Don’t say it,” Derek cringed, even as he whimpered at the punishing pulses to his spot.

          “A human vibrator.” Stiles laughed as he kept up his assault, varying the speed and intensity of his vibrations and leaving Derek a mewling mess.

          Every few minutes Stiles upped the speed, nowhere near his maximum, he knew that first hand, but more than most simple vibrators could provide and with better precision. Each second was both an eternity and fleeting, part of his brain working at near super speeds coordinating his hands, but the other staying slow to experience the way Derek reacted to everything going on.

          “Is this, fuck!” Derek cried out, dropping his head back to the table and whimpering. “Is it safe?”

          “Yeah, tried it on myself at home,” Stiles said back triumphantly.

          “Yeah, but I don’t have super healing, fuck,” he Derek answered, voice constricted as he rocked back onto the lightning fast fingers unconsciously.

          “True, but I’m using a looooot of lube. Like Derek, I actually ran to the store and bought another bottle without you even noticing I was gone,” Stiles laughed, holding up the second bottle of lube, true to his word. It was little things like that, the constantly evolving powers that Stiles was growing into, that never ceased to amaze him.

          When Stiles finally reached down the front of Derek’s pants, he found that big bulge of Derek’s straining against the fabric, front of his jock nearly soaked from how much the poor man was leaking. “Derek, you want to cum?”

          Derek was beyond words by this point, whole body reduced to just the constant, mind-numbing pleasure/pain of Stiles’ fingers in him. He felt as if his whole body was vibrating, thrumming with energy and life and the unresolved tension that he only knew one way to reach. They’d messed around like this before, but Derek had always needed a hand to spill over the edge, but tonight he wanted to ride it out, knew that if he just kept going eventually it’d happen and he’d fall over that precipice without anything but Stiles’ fingers pushing him closer and closer.

          He nodded furiously, sobbing as he felt himself building higher and higher, but still unable to find that sweet release he so desperately craved and needed.

          “Come on big guy, I have what you need, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Stiles whispered in hushed tones as he slipped a third finger inside and increased his velocity to what he thought was the last humanly possible to take level.

          Really Stiles hadn’t needed the extra speed, it was his words that sent Derek tumbling into the abyss of orgasm; the speed just made the ride that much more fun. Stiles didn’t let up though; working him through it and even after Derek’s orgasm had subsided. When Derek was writhing and moaning, Stiles finally stopped, finishing himself off at light speed before whisking them both back to Derek’s bedroom.

          Super speed came in handy a lot of the time, but none more so than needing to get your vigilante boyfriend out of his skin tight clothes after an intense session of prostate play and clean him up.

          Once everything was done Stiles lay with Derek in the bed; the other man a bit startled by the change in surroundings, but overall still too blissed out to care.

          “Never getting used to that,” he sighed, laying his head on Stiles’ bare, slightly wiry chest.

          “To me fingering you at light speed or carrying you home?”

          “Both?” Derek said, chuckling a bit as he let a hand come up to draw lines down the toned abdominals of his boyfriend. “I’ve seen a lot of weird, horrible, awe inspiring things in my life, but I’ve never seen someone as amazing as you.”

          “Well, you don’t need to be a meta human to be awesome, you make that clear every night,” Stiles said, letting his fingernails drag through Derek’s short hair. They curled up together and Derek let himself relax. For now he didn’t need to be the protector of the city, he could just feel protected.  It was the best feeling in the world.


End file.
